


The Opposite of Speed Dating

by Sophisticated_Adult



Series: A Good And Chill Ship (The Ship Is On Fire) [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Post-Pacifist Route, Tiny Skeleton Flirts With Fire Elemental By Buying Terrible Clothes, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:57:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7938874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans is not a dating master, but then again, neither is Grillby, and they go at their own pace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Opposite of Speed Dating

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've figured out why there's so many optional phone calls in the game. It turns out it's really hard to stop Papyrus talking once you start writing him.

Sans was sort of starting to wonder if the thing with Grillby was starting to become, like, an actual thing? Maybe beyond that they liked hanging out together and Grillbz was good company? Case in point, the guy had asked Sans when his birthday was. It had been so out of left field that Sans was almost temporarily stunned with the realisation that, oh yeah, birthdays were going to be a thing again. He'd been re-living the same May-to-halfway-through-June, max, for who knew how long, and since Paps' b-day was back in April they hadn't featured much. He'd had other things to worry about.

He'd blinked and it had taken just enough of a second too long to reply to make it uncomfortable.

“sure, december third. good and chilly.” Not close enough to Christmas to justify combining it with his birthday, which had annoyed him when he was a kid since it meant more effort on his part and fuss where there didn't need to be. Wow, December. It was already August. Wasn't the linear passage of time neat? The way it kept on happening, even after all it had been through? What a trooper.

Grillby nodded. “All right, then.” He looked like he was carefully memorising it, and when he got back home he'd flip through his business diary and write it down. Sans could picture it perfectly in his mind's eye: the slow and careful handwriting, the attention to detail that sometimes it seemed like Grillby just couldn't help. Guy was serious about being serious.

And now he wanted to know the birthday of the height-adverse skeleton that put whoopee cushions on his bar seats.

That sounded serious.

“papyrus is april 21st, for the record,” Sans added. He didn't want to be neatly pinned down in Grillby's list of dates if Papyrus wasn't in there somewhere as well, even if, to be honest, the two of them didn't really get along. It was less Grillby actively disliking Papyrus and more Papyrus having his own firm ideas of what constituted as good, healthy food for strong bones, and what Grillby offered was not it, although he did grudgingly admit to liking the milk. “well, since we're doin' this, when's yours?”

Grillby's flame tinged slightly yellower, apparently pleased Sans had asked at all, but there was a sudden pause like he'd just realised something. “...June 23rd.”

Whoa. Okay, that wasn't cool. “welp. seems i've missed it by like a month and a half. sorry, grill-” but Grillby was shaking his head. 

“No, don't worry about it. You didn't know.”

True, true. But, oddly enough, it wasn't inspiring Sans to take the easy route and drop it like he normally would. “well, now i do. no worries, i'll figure something out.”

And figure something out he did.

And by that he meant that he tagged along when Papyrus needed to replace some pans that hadn't survived Undyne's latest cooking technique. Something about passion, and fire, but mostly fire. As Papyrus headed off to carefully inspect all the different choices before buying the same ones he always did, Sans sidled up to his first choice in a birthday present for Grillby: novelty aprons. A simple 'Kiss the Cook' wouldn't do. He needed something especially terrible. To show that he really cared.

After some rooting, Sans stood back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. None of these really seemed adequate. There weren't even that many puns, to his disappointment, lots of plain colours and floral patterns. Oh, well. There was always - 

“SANS! ARE YOU CONSIDERING TAKING UP THE CULINARY ARTS?” Papyrus boomed, expertly balancing in one hand an array of cooking utensils piled up in his chosen pans. A few nearby humans turned to look at the source of the sudden noise, but looked away again quickly. “YOUR LAST ATTEMPT WAS PERHAPS LESS THAN STELLAR, BUT BETWEEN MYSELF AND UNDYNE-”

“whoa, slow down there, bro,” Sans said hastily, like he'd been caught out doing something he shouldn't. “i, uh, it's a present. turns out i've missed grillbz's birthdays for the last-” he paused, then shrugged. “well, all of 'em.”

“AH. I SEE.” Papyrus' voice dropped several decibels. “WELL, I SHALL NOT INSERT MYSELF INTO AFFAIRS WHERE I AM NOT KNOWLEDGEABLE ENOUGH TO BE OF USE! ALSO, IN FAIRNESS, HE HAS MISSED YOURS AS WELL! I DO NOT RECALL HIM EVER GETTING YOU A PRESENT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY!”

“nah, 's cool. thought i'd at least check this place out, but it looks like a bust. none of these are really doin' anything for me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “you got everything you need?”

“YES! ALSO, THERE IS CURRENTLY A SALE ON! THOSE FOOLISH HUMANS ARE PRACTICALLY GIVING CERTAIN ITEMS AWAY! NYEH-HEH-HEH!” He waved a spatula tagged half off to demonstrate. 

“you're so cool, bro.”

“I KNOW, BUT THANK YOU!”

They were on their way to the checkout when Sans suddenly stopped. “oh my god.”

“WHAT?” Papyrus turned around, worried. Sans could only tug at his arm, lost for words, and point. It was on top of a pile with a hopeful '50% Off!!” sign. It was a plain white apron that simply said, 'Chefs Are Hot!', and to illustrate this, there was a sub-clipart cartoon of a small flame grinning and giving a thumbs up. It was wearing sunglasses. It was one of the most beautiful things Sans had ever seen.

“SANS, NO,” Papyrus said, but without any real annoyance. Grillby was apparently the one weak spot in Papyrus' desire to like and be liked by absolutely everybody, so he put no real effort into defending him from the apron. “THAT IS TERRIBLE! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO GIVE PEOPLE PRESENTS THEY WILL LIKE, SO THAT THEY WILL THEN LIKE YOU BACK!” 

“it's amazing.” Sans held it reverently. Sometimes humans could really come through for you.

\---

That was how it started, innocently enough. Grillby's expression didn't change a single iota when he got the apron, and the slightly strained “...thank you, Sans.” was a long time coming. In other words, it was perfect, to the point where Sans sort of wished he'd brought a camera. But hey, it wasn't just the last birthday he'd missed, but all of them, like he'd told Papyrus. There would be other opportunities. Like when he caught sight of a skull and crossbones bowtie and just had to get it. Grillby caught on quickly as he held it between his long fingers. 

“You don't need to, Sans...really.”

“oh, but i want to. got a lot of birthdays to catch up on.” He winked. Grillby's expression didn't change.

Sans was having fun.

\---

It didn't take too long for Grillby to start his own campaign, much to Sans' delight, although it seemed there were some lows he just couldn't stoop to even as a gag gift, and his presents for Sans were always just that little bit less...well, terrible, but he was trying his best. At some point they both must've swung by the same store, since they gave each other the same black t-shirt with a flaming skull design, although Grillby had somehow found it in children's size for Sans. 

“sweet, now we can match,” he'd laughed. It was great. Grillby seemed pleased.

\---

Papyrus, for his part, was very unimpressed with the whole thing, but he could never resist the allure of fashion and usually came along on Sans' excursions. 

“IT IS LUCKY YOU ARE ALREADY FRIENDS, BECAUSE THESE ARE ALL AWFUL?” He said, arms folded and his face as close to a scowl as he could get. Which wasn't very much. It was actually pretty cute.

“yep,” Sans agreed, reaching up to take an eye-searingly neon orange jacket off its hanger. He honestly never thought he'd think it, but this might actually be a bit too much for Grillby. That amount of orange-on-orange action was probably illegal. He was totally getting it.

“WAIT!” Papyrus suddenly gasped, hands flying to his mouth, causing Sans to startle. “SPECIAL CLOTHES!” He pointed dramatically. “EXCHANGING GIFTS! SANS!! HAVE YOU BEEN DATING GRILLBY IN SECRET ALL THIS TIME?!” 

Welp. Now the entire store was staring at them.

“uh. not to my knowledge?” Sans clutched the orange fabric closer, as if it could hide the sudden blue blush that spread across his cheeks. It was just...he wasn't...

…

...was he?

“OH NO! YOU HAVE BEEN DATING WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING IT! HOW TRAGIC!” Papyrus scrunched his fingers against his cheekbones, looking genuinely distressed.

“papyrus! can we talk about this, you know, literally anywhere else?” Sans whispered urgently in the deafening silence. He really wasn't comfortable with that many humans looking at him. It made his spine crawl.

“OF COURSE! WE MUST MAKE OUR PURCHASES AND DISCUSS THIS MOST THOROUGHLY! DO NOT WORRY, BROTHER, I AM A DATING MASTER, SECOND ONLY TO THE HUMAN, FRISK!”

\---

Not only did Grillby somehow make the jacket work, he wore it with the flaming skull shirt and damn if it wasn't the second coolest outfit Sans had ever seen (Papyrus' battle body took first place, of course).

Papyrus patted Sans on the back and told him it was very innovative to combine the clothes with the gift-giving. Sans still wasn't entirely sure how this had all happened, but he wasn't going to complain about it. He'd even started looking forward to his birthday instead of living in dread of a reset. Every day was one day closer, and he marvelled at his own optimism as the tacky gifts and increasingly hideous sweaters piled up as the weather got colder. 

Neither of them had really said anything, but then again, no-one had corrected Papyrus' belief that Sans and Grillby were tragically ineffective at dating, having not progressed beyond the gift-giving stage, but they were trying their best and he believed in them.

It was...definitely a thing, by now. Maybe you could date someone without realising it?

He decided to test it out.

\---

“heyyy, grillbz.” Sans leaned one hand on the counter, pleasantly warm from the good food and good company the bar provided, and also the fact that literal fire was standing across from him. “how about we hang out after you close up? watch a movie or something.” He'd noticed earlier that the bartender was wearing the skull and crossbones bowtie, although the Horrible Jacket had yet to make its debut in Grillby's. The man himself inclined his head slightly, to show he was listening, and kept wiping the glass he was holding for a long while until he nodded once, decisively. Sweet. Whether this was friendship-dating or real dating, either way, it hadn't been too hard so far. Sans could totally do this.

\---

Back underground Grillby’d had a nondescript house that, to his knowledge, Sans had never been inside. Here, there was a wooden staircase behind the staff only door (so just Grillbz, then) that lead to an apartment above the bar. It was neat, clean, plain, and offered absolutely no surprises. Still, it was a nice place, and Sans told him as such.  
   
“hey, while i remember. what’s this that i have?” A quick flick of his wrist brought out an object from the void. Sans couldn’t remember learning how, but at some point he’d figured out how to use the unknowable darkness he stepped through in his shortcuts as a storage space, handy for snacks, props, and impressing small children. (Except Frisk, who already knew the secret, but they played along anyway).  
   
“…”  
   
Grillby’s flame flickered slightly as he inspected the offering. It was a little skeleton bobblehead figure Sans had dug out of a discount bin two weeks after Halloween. Papyrus had bought two when he’d seen it, one to represent himself and another for Sans, that sat on their windowsill.  
   
“happy, uh, forty-second birthday i’ve missed, grillbz. no, wait, forty-third. hope it was a good one.”  
   
“How long do you plan on keeping this up, out of interest?” Grillby asked as he took the figure, but Sans gauged that he didn’t seem mad or upset.  
   
“dunno. how many have i got left to catch up on?”  
   
An almost-sigh. “Too many. Wait here.” Sans watched curiously as he disappeared into what was probably his bedroom. He didn’t have to wait too long before Grillby emerged with a small package. He actually bothered to wrap his gifts for Sans, although at least the wrapping paper was usually the sort aimed at the under-10s. This particular one was a light blue background decorated with red fire trucks. It was almost a shame to tear it. Sans opened it anyway.  
   
He thought it was just a plain white shirt at first – he wouldn’t put it past Grillbz to use this as a ploy to just get him some decent clothes that weren’t worn down and starting to fray – but his grin became a little more genuine when he unfolded it properly and saw that ‘sans’ was stamped across it in bold type. He’d even gotten the font right. It reminded Sans of those cartoons in the newspaper that labelled everything and weren’t funny.  
   
“thanks, grillbz, i love it. now i can just point to this when i introduce myself.” It was a really nice quality shirt, too. Grillby had probably gotten it custom ordered and paid way more than he needed to for it.  
   
“Happy thirteenth birthday, Sans.” Grillby’s rate was way slower, but he’d started later and probably put actual thought into his gifts, as opposed to Sans who just picked up whatever he thought was funny at the time.  
   
(If he remembered right, his actual thirteenth birthday was when he’d gotten the telescope, but he couldn’t quite recall from who. He was starting to get ever so slightly suspicious of all the holes in his memory, but with all the resets and timeline nonsense that had been going on he supposed it couldn’t be helped).

They settled down on the couch and Sans claimed the controller for himself to skip past channels on the TV looking for anything interesting.

Whatever this was, it was nice.

**Author's Note:**

> I made up the birthdays but they felt right. I don't go for astrology stuff so I didn't look any of it up, but Paps missed 4/20 by a day and Sans still doesn't know how to feel about it.


End file.
